The Dragon
by sakshi.chopra
Summary: Hermione Granger is on a mission and she will do everything to uncover the secrets of Draco Malfoy. Malfoy is going to cooperate whether he likes it or not. But the closer she gets to winning, the more she loses herself. Now the mission is not just a mission, Draco is not what he seems and all of Hermione's forbidden teenage fantasies want to come out and play. [Dramione][PostWar]
1. Chapter 1

Hello...This is my first foray into Harry Potter fanfiction. I decided to jump onto the Dramione ship because, Draco and Hermione are so explosive together. My fingers tingle at the potential here. So I am starting off with a one shot. I hope you like it. Constructive criticism is heartily welcome.

Rating-NC17 because of sexual situations.

Trigger Warning-cheating and bad mouthing.

Disclaimer- I do not own any of these characters. I just like to let my imagination run wild...

* * *

Her hand drifted over the neatly folded line of underwear. She stopped at a pair of deep plum silk panties, small, silk on front, chantilly lace at the back and lace fringe at the edges. Her eyes moved to a similar line of bras to the left and spotted the matching plum silk and lace demi bra with cups that almost exposed her nipples if she breathed deep.

Yes, these would be perfect for tonight, she thought, as she finished smoothing her apple and mint lotion over her legs.

"Hermione? How much longer?" Ron shouted over the sound of a muggle reality show he was watching on a muggle TV set.

"Almost done." She called out, carefully modulating her response to sound equal parts tired, exasperated and guilty.

Hermione donned her selection and covered the exquisite lingerie up with a dull brown and white striped button down shirt and comfortable well worn black pants.

"Are you working tonight?" Ron scrunched his nose when he saw her walk to the living area with her enchanted beaded bag in one hand and a pair of sensible black flats in the other.

"Yes I am. I told you over breakfast." Hermione answered while putting on her shoes.

"No you didn't."

She heard the pout before she saw it and suppressed a sigh.

"Oh I apologize. It must have skipped my mind."

Ron huffed and turned back to the tele.

"You are always forgetting things these days. You need to keep your mind sharp 'Mione. Where did the brightest witch of our age go?"

The taunt bothered her at some level. But not as much as it used to, say two months back. Two months back, she would've flown into a righteous rage and argued and justified and finagled a retraction of the slight to her worth. Now, Hermione swallowed a snort at the naked attempt to start a fight and make her late, straightened her face and looked at Ron with her best conciliatory smile in place.

"I am just tired with all these extra hours Mcgonaggal has been making me work on pattern analysis. When I aced Arithmancy, I didn't know my fate got tied to a wooden chair and desk groaning under the weight of stats for days on end. You know how it is."

Ron huffed and brought his bottle of fire whiskey up for a swig. He didn't reply or apologize.

Hermione turned and walked out the door. She didn't slam the door or curse her so called boyfriend.

xxx

He lounged in a bed among rich black sheets, leaning on an elbow, a leg bent and the other straight out. Clad as he was only in dark green silk pajamas, no doubt monogrammed somewhere she couldn't see, Hermione fought the urge to feast her eyes on the expanse of broad muscled male chest and abs on blatant display. But she kept her gaze on his quicksilver eyes. Just as he did. His posture might scream lazy and relaxed, but she knew better than to assume that his guard was down.

"You look especially drab." he smirked, "The brown hair match the cheap brown shirt."

The things that cruel smirk made her want to inflict on his stupid face...

"You've learnt your colors!" Hermione did a slow clap, "Your mum and dad must be so happy."

His left eye twitched.

"They are ecstatic." he ground out.

"A big word too." Hermione gasped for good effect, "My my are we learning. Must be the exemplary company you've been keeping."

"Is a shoddy hook up with some broad a couple times a month called keeping exemplary company in your shoddy neck of the woods?"

He made air quotes. The nerve.

She popped a few buttons on her shirt and toed off her sensible shoes.

"Shoddy hook up, shoddy neck of woods... All those sexy books in your manor library and not one thesaurus to your exalted name..." Hermione rolled her eyes, finished unbuttoning her shirt and shrugged it off.

The plum bra finally drew his eyes off hers and he clenched his jaw to keep his face blank as always. But he could no longer hide his body's obvious reaction to her creamy breasts showcased so provocatively in the dark seductive color of ripe berries. He silently cursed women's lingerie and her power over his body.

"Sexy books? Do I need to put wards around my library? Keep your grubby hands off my books Granger!"

"What else is worth grabbing in this drafty old mansion?" Hermione cocked an eyebrow and pushed down her pants, revealing the plum silk barely there pair of knickers.

"Remove one more article of your accursed clothing and I will give you something to grab." He growled as he straightened and ran his eyes over her delectable body.

"We down to threats now? One wrong move and I'm going to hex your sorry arse straight to Azkaban." She climbed the high four poster bed on all fours and crawled to him.

He grabbed the hair at the nape of her neck and pulled her roughly onto his lap, grinding himself on her flimsy knickers, as his shaking hands loosened the drawstring on his pajamas.

"I dare you to try hexing me, you filthy little mudblood!" He bit her lower lip, hard enough to draw blood.

Hermione pushed her fingers in the silk of his platinum blond hair and did some hair pulling herself to dislodge his mouth from hers. She saw her blood on his lips and leaned in to lick it.

"Damned death-eater scum." she taunted on his lips.

He freed himself from his constricting pajamas and slapped the crotch of her knickers with his cock.

"This improper little piece of silk is soaked." He hissed. "Does mouthing off turn you on? Or was it humiliation of being called a mudblood?"

Hermione could hardly tell him that hearing him call her mudblood to her face took her back to school. Back to her taboo fantasies of one day getting roughly used up by her arrogant bully. Fantasy and reality were already dangerously mixed up in her twisted life. Thinking of him made her wet. His insults made her wet. Fighting with him made her wet. His smirk made her gush. Her body had become a deviant, depraved beast that demanded him with an intensity reserved for the truly insane.

She rubbed her barely covered nipples on his warm chest. Her pussy was dripping from the friction of his rock hard cock. Her brain was getting muddled from gazing into his scorching eyes and listening to his dirty demeaning words. She was on the cusp of forgetting that this was all supposed to be a game to her.

"Please." she whispered.

He pulled her panty crotch to the side and touched her bare cunt.

"Please what you hussy?" he whispered back, barely grazing her begging lips.

"Draco..." Hermione groaned in desperation.

He sighed at the sound of his name on her lips and kissed her once, twice, then he lifted her arse on one arm. Hermione grabbed his cock and lined him up. Draco started lowering her and she moaned in relief as he entered half an inch of her body. He ran his lips up and down her flushed throat, stopped to suck on the spot that would make her writhe and accept more of him.

But all the restless unwanted waiting of the past week, the inconvenient jealousy of watching her with the sniveling Weasel, the helpless frustration of not ever getting to talk to her like he really wanted to in public and the urgent frenzy of the coupling she had bullied him into broke his patience and he suddenly forced her all the way down to his lap in a single thrust.

Hermione cried out as his thick length breached her, the sensation a tangled mix of pleasure and pain.

"This is what you need Miss Granger! A life of vanilla with the halfwit Weasly is never going to be enough for you." He growled and pushed her back on the bed as he got on his knees above her and pulled out.

No. No. No. She wanted him back in her. Back where she could feel all of him.

"And you suppose I am better off being with a disgraced ex-death-eater who is only tolerated in circles that positively celebrate Ron?" Hermione taunted, immediately gratified by the rage she saw in Draco's eyes. Good. She had hit right where it hurt. He would hit back.

Draco did not disappoint. He never did.

He gripped her jaw, the pressure painful, and captured her lips in a bruising, punishing kiss. Hermione wrapped her legs around him and pulled Draco down till their bodies were flush together again. Draco thrust into the witch and watched her pretty but vindictive mouth open in silent pleasure.

"What the fuck are you doing in my bed?" He fumed, barely able to keep his bitterness in check. "Why the fuck do you keep coming back?"

"Why the fuck do you keep letting me in? I am making a fool of you!" spat Hermione, fanning the flames of his already incendiary temper.

"Get over your over inflated self witch or you're never getting my cock again." Draco ordered viciously and started on a punishing pace, fucking her soundly into the mattress till Hermione lost all her cutting words and reason.

xxx

There were a few seconds after a man had an explosive orgasm, when his defenses were down, when the woman in his arms looked deliciously rumpled and sated, when he just wanted to close his eyes and comfortably bask in the self satisfaction of his manly prowess. There were only a handful of legilimens in the wizarding world who could silently, wandlessly open the mind of such a man at a time like this. A fewer who could pull out exact thoughts and memories from this sublimely floating mind. Only two, alive and able, who could do it without the man knowing about the unwitting but useful set of memories he was sharing with his dozing partner.

For a man like Draco Malfoy, there was just Hermione Granger.

Hermione coaxed entry into Draco's mind, did her requisite sweep, added the nudge of sleep and withdrew. He would think that the events that just ran through his head were errant thoughts at the cusp of becoming dreams and then fall asleep. He would not know about the trespass. He would keep thinking Hermione was a vixen with a fetish for cheating and sleeping with the enemy.

Draco would keep wanting her, despising her for wanting her so much and push her away. Hermione would keep pulling him back for one more act of desperate sin.

Hermione summoned her clothes and dressed. For two seconds she debated whether it would be appropriate to leave a goodbye note or not. Then she decided against leaving anything of the sort and silently left the bedroom. Once she was out of the range of his wards, she summoned an owl and sent a message to her boss Mcgonaggal. With a fleeting glance at the dark and silent abode of the bane of her existence, Hermione raised her wand and vanished into the night.

xxx

Minerva Mcgonaggal read Hermione's message and frowned. This was getting out of hand. First the young witch stopped reporting the minute by minute details of her encounters with Malfoy. As long as Mcgonaggal had detailed information gained from his memories, she could somewhat ignore minor lapses in standard procedure. But then the details started shrinking. And so did older witch's patience. But tonight was the last straw. There was no data, no list of persons of interest, no dates, no nothing. Just a line that said -

Malfoy still in the clear.

It was as if Hermione had started seeing herself the judge, jury and executioner for this particular person of interest.

And Draco Malfoy was attracting a lot of the Ministry's interest. He'd recently been seen with a number of ex death-eaters, multiple times now. He'd started two business ventures with children of known inner circle Ministry of Magic was paranoid about any reemergence of Voldemort's propaganda. Death-eaters, ex or not, meeting frequently could not bode well. Sizable resources were allocated to Mcgonaggal and her secret network of intelligence operatives to gain intrusive intelligence about the rising Malfoy heir. Intrusive intelligence, this abysmal five word report was not. Mcgonaggal sighed and started dry runs on alternatives.

xxx

Draco felt it when she crossed the wards of the manor and finally allowed himself a smile.

Ten years. Countless foiled attempts at conversation that turned into insult slinging free-for-alls. Innumerable misconceptions and prejudices that blocked his every attempt to gain any kind of footing with the infuriating witch. Lost chances and vagaries of fate that did not slow him down, just showed him how better to twist things to advantage. Plotting and maneuvering his every move to set the stage for her and only her to come and put her claim on him. And now at last he had control of the board. The pieces were finally moving as directed. He was closer to his queen than he had ever been. Twice she lost her rigid control tonight. If things kept on track, soon that control would be distant memory. Her lies and attempts at non-consensual mind violation would cease because the ingrained morals of his illustrious sleuth would not let her take advantage of him. Not for long at least.

Then Hermione Granger would loose the chains that bound her to mediocrity and get brave enough to choose bigger and better. She would choose him. Draco Malfoy.

The Dragon always got his treasure, by hook or by crook...

xxx


	2. Chapter 2

**Hahaha...So my muse has refused to leave me alone on this story. Therefore, I decided to transform this one shot into a few chapters. Here's the next one. I hope you like it...Suggestions and critique most welcome :)**

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Early in the morning, freshly showered and dry, Hermione stood naked in front of the full mirror in the bathroom, carefully checking every freckle on her light skin, every runaway curl of her hair and every little bruise that Draco Malfoy had left on her body. She thought about each bite and hard kiss and methodically started applying healing charms on the little tokens of her night.

"He is sand." She told herself, willing the high Draco left in her veins to cool off.

"Go on...Clench your fist..."

Hermione finished the healing the last one on her thigh and watched the marks slowly vanish. She didn't let herself caress them or leave one for obsessing over later. They were superficial anyways. The real brand of his touch was inside, somewhere she couldn't reach or heal.

She finally met her eyes in the mirror reflection.

"Try holding him in, and watch him slip away from your little grasping fingers." She whispered to herself, as she pulled and prodded her wild hair back into a tight braid, keenly aware of the rough tracks on her scalp that Draco's long fingers running through her open locks had left. He liked her hair free, of pins and bands, of structure or style, and always messed it up at first opportunity.

She couldn't help being jealous of her hair. What would freedom from all pins and bands and structure and control feel like to her?

xxx

When Minerva McGonaggal called Hermione for a meeting at work, she didn't know that short discussion would turn her life on its head.

The witch knocked on her boss's door and entered when called. McGonaggal sat all prim and proper behind her desk, back straight, glasses halfway down the nose, with just one small piece of parchment present on the fastidiously clean wooden surface. Hermione glanced to confirm that the parchment was the missive about Malfoy that she had sent McGonaggal two days back.

So, this was about that note.

"You must know why we are having this talk Miss Granger." Minerva McGonaggal stated, calm, collected and sure of her position in their world.

"It is about my assignment." Hermione nodded.

"Yes." The older witch nodded back, "You are off the case."

Hermione felt the ground getting yanked from under her feet.

"What?"

"You haven't had anything substantive to report since a month. You have reached the limit of your influence with Malfoy. Clearly, this secret friendship has run its course. I have identified a better fit for this job. Your talents are to be focused somewhere else."

Hermione heard the words, refusing to face their consequences and tried her best to appear nonchalant while her thoughts ran a mile a minute.

_Why was McGonaggal doing this? Months could pass without new information in such cases. What was the hurry? What changed? Why the sudden doubts about her effectiveness or influence? _

"Limit of influence? What are you…" Hermione repeated the words to allow time for her mind to stop its spiral.

She abruptly stopped talking. And focused all attention on the witch in front of her.

McGonaggal's eyes didn't gain an ounce of warmth as she continued to talk.

"It should be a relief for you to stop having to sneak around behind everybody's back. No one has seen you with Mr Malfoy and no one would be the wiser when you stop meeting him. You can move on with your life and other work. Leave this to someone in a better position to get close to him than you are."

Hermione coldly noted that the churning in her gut was rage. Wisely, she kept it separate from the discussion, lest she lose McGonaggal's favor. She pinched her face in a slight worried frown, the better to prove her commitment to the cause and utter professionalism.

"I have worked hard to build a friendship with Malfoy. We have history. He trusts me now, in his own way. He talks to me, confides... I am sure this is just a slump and new information may turn up. Can my replacement ensure this degree of familiarity without raising red flags? We have to cover all our bases here, lest something slip past scrutiny."

Her input didn't seem to bother the older witch. But Minerva did breath out a quite sigh, perhaps relieved that Hermione was taking this all as professionally as she was supposed to. Maybe her suspicions of Hermione's growing attachment to Malfoy were unfounded after all. But the decision was already made, the replacement contacted and in place. Looking at the bigger picture, Hermione was better suited for the straightforward but exacting task of keeping tabs on written communications of people of interest. Sneaking around, lying and hiding one's true self must be taking a toll on the younger witch. Minerva was sure she was doing Hermione a favor.

Confident in her righteous decision, McGonaggal addressed Hermione's concerns as best as she could.

"You need not worry. Your replacement doesn't need a cover or build a relationship, being already in the inner circle. Most importantly, she doesn't need to hide her association with him."

_She_.

_A female then. From the inner circle no less._

Another emotion joined the bubbling rage, trying to tip the proverbial cup of her sanity over. It looked disturbingly like... insecurity. What if this new female made a connection with Malfoy? She was already inner circle. A pureblood then. What if he decided to hold on to this pureblood? Draco wouldn't need to hide her like he obviously did Hermione.

Hermione stopped the runaway train of her inner teenage witch and scoffed at herself.

She had no need to feel less than adequate. Despite his constant need for foul words, Draco did allow her unprecedented liberties. She just needed to wait this insanity out, till Minerva McGonaggal realized that Draco Malfoy didn't like or trust anyone. He certainly didn't take just about anyone to bed. She knew. She had seen his memories after all. This new girl would obviously proceed as expected, with friendship and a chaste pureblood relationship. Draco wouldn't blurt out his secrets to her. Being in the inner circle meant nothing. Draco had secretly been against even his father and Voldemort, who were the embodiment of their whole bloody circle of death! Surely this new woman would try at being his spy and crash. Then where would this sorry bunch of sleuths go? They would have to come back to her. After all, even McGonaggal didn't know just how Hermione got inside the head of their unsuspecting person of interest.

She took a deep breath and kept all emotion out of her eyes and just like an accomplished legilimens, out of the forefront of her mind.

"And Miss Granger, cut your ties with him. Association with a notorious death-eater, ex or not, will bring you nothing but grief. He might tell you things now, but don't forget where his allegiances lay when it mattered, or what we are currently investigating him for. You will lose your credibility with the Ministry and get a bad name if this gets out. You have a bright future. Keep it that way. Make a clean break."

_Like that was even possible_, Hermione thought bitterly. _Cut ties with Draco and lose what little gave her pleasure in her life these days? Never. _

But McGonaggal didn't need to know what Hermione was thinking. Sidestepping and hiding things from the Ministry of Magic and Aurors was something Hermione had a lot of experience in. She just had to exercise more caution in future.

And she needed to know who the next spy was.

"Do you need me to brief this new agent?"

"No."

Hermione would find out who it was on her own then.

"And I do not want you to harbor any hard feelings either Hermione. This is all in a day's work. Now you go back to Runes and Codes. After all, no one decodes secret messages like you do." McGonaggal showed a hint of a smile.

Hermione noted how McGonaggal shifted from Miss Granger to Hermione once she had said her piece. She got up, thanked her boss and left for her office.

Minerva kept note of the young witch's face and body language even as she left. Hermione betrayed no emotion, good or bad, which made McGonaggal proud of her protege. But this tight control over her reactions and words disturbed the caring ex professor in Minerva. For the umpteenth time, she wondered when the passionate, impulsive and most importantly, happy young girl had been lost to the rigors of the wizard wars and her place had been taken by this carefully restrained young witch. What had changed, she wondered.

xxx

Half a month had gone by.

Two weeks of grueling nonstop work in Codes.

Fourteen days of struggling to keep smiling for her friends, boyfriend and family, of keeping things normal.

Three hundred and thirty six hours of agonizing over what the new agent was doing with Draco Malfoy, how close she was getting, what learnt wiles she was using.

Twenty thousand one hundred and sixty minutes of missing his touch, his eyes, his voice, his quips and retorts.

Twelve lakh nine thousand and six hundred seconds of curbing the urge to apparate within his reach and see if he would touch her, or talk to her again.

The sad thing was, she didn't even feel guilty over her obsession any more. Getting involved with Malfoy had left her such a knot of contradictions that outside of work, nothing seemed right anymore. He was supposed to be a shallow entitled prat who Hermione despised, not someone with depths and intelligence Hermione had just begun to see. He constantly challenged her beliefs, taunted her to lose control, got turned on when she insulted him in logic he could not refute and got into hours of debates with her about the political climate of their world, or something as innocuous as yoga or the current styles of witch robes. As far as his track record of bullying was concerned, Hermione had quite accidently stumbled upon the fact that all of their longest and most satisfying conversations started with a taunting remark or a sneered out veiled insult to someone's ineptitude, things that used to push her into rages in school and now just made her push him into a verbal spar.

She knew why she wanted him so much. But she couldn't reconcile how four months of slowly getting to know Draco Malfoy had complicated and put in question years of past friendships and relationships. She failed to see why she shouldn't want to settle for safe, tried and tested and go for intriguing and new instead.

Anger and despair were her constant companion these days. Anger at herself for having lost her mind and eighty percent brain function to Malfoy. Despair at how she was going to manage to pull off being with him in reality. Not that he had actually come out and asked for a relationship with her. For all her mental free falling, he might just be enjoying the sex and content with hiding it from everyone. He could get bored, find someone more…

Hermione walked the gleaming red carpet hallway of the British Ministry of Magic on autopilot. She reached the nearest bank of elevators and without taking note of the people inside, boarded the first one to open in front of her. The jolt of the crazy lift taking off towards the bowels of the Ministry shook her enough to remember to press the button for her department. As she reached out to the panel, a pale hand beat her to it and pressed the right button for her.

"Allow me." He whispered, an inch from her ear. And just like that, he stole her breathe away.

Hermione suddenly became keenly aware that she stood towards the side, her right shoulder touching the lift wall. The source of all her troubles and the cure of all her maladies was directly behind her, his body touched her's at just this side of appropriate for a crowded lift. His black shirt cuff peeked from within the sleeve of a dark wool robe. His Malfoy signet ring on his middle finger presented a stark contrast to his flawless, too white skin. The same finger that had been buried inside her a few days ago.

The lift jerked to a stop and Draco slammed into her, hands planted firmly on her narrow waist. Hermione felt the heat of his hands all the way to her skin. Four men and a woman disembarked and they were suddenly alone. The lift jerked again and Hermione tumbled back into him.

"What are you doing here?" she hissed, trying in vain to control the flush creeping up her neck.

Draco turned her around and his hand went to grip the few curls at the base of her neck that had escaped her proper bun. He forced her face to tilt up and looked into her eyes.

"Let go. Merlin Malfoy, anyone could-"

He cut her off with a bite to her lower lip. No way was that a kiss. Hermione brought her hands to his chest and pushed him back. It was like trying to push a warded wall. He twisted her head back and sucked at the bite, then let go of her lip. His turbulent gray eyes took stock of her face, as if he was counting every blushing freckle there was to count.

"You need to remember this." he answered, his voice far cooler than his eyes and hands on her.

"What are you-" Hermione managed to gasp out.

Draco thrust his hips into her, blatantly making her feel his need and kissed her savagely. Then he pushed her away, in time for the lift to stop and walked out, his dark robes sweeping behind him with a life of their own.

Hermione felt the whiplash down to her core. She tried to wrap her head around what had just happened. Draco Malfoy acousted her, _her_, in the middle of the Ministry of Magic, in broad daylight, when any number of her colleagues could walk in on them and put his hands and lips on her as if he had the right to do so.

As if she belonged to him.

She touched her lips and wondered if he had left a mark of his ownership.

xxx

It took a look through of a couple of weekend gossip rags for Hermione to figure out the identity of the new girl McGonaggal put on Malfoy.

Astoria Fucking Greengrass.

Malfoy never repeated dates in a row and he had taken Astoria to a charity event and the opening of the newest wizard musical already. The Witch's Weekly had a report that Astoria was heard discussing a designer gown for a private party with her friends. A source close to the lady in question revealed that Malfoy was escorting her to this affair tonight. Three dates, two of them on two consecutive days. For someone like him, this was practically announcing a relationship. That, or Astoria inner-circle-pureblood Greengrass had somehow gained the in McGonaggal wanted and Hermione had failed to secure.

It burned like the gates of hell.

Since appearing at the War Hero Rehabilitation Charity Gala together last week, the press had taken to following Malfoy or Greengrass or the two of them together, everywhere they went. And why not. Malfoy was handsome, rich as sin and a bit of a bad boy rake. Astoria was stunning, graceful and the consummate benefactor of a number of charities and 'do-gooder' groups. Together, they made for nauseatingly striking pictures. The newspapers wouldn't miss this piece of gossip gold for Dumbledore's left nut.

Hermione Granger was sick to her stomach. She finally lost the exhilaration of their tête-à-tête of the previous day. However, she had not expected this rude awakening to the reality of her value to him. And the reality was that Draco Malfoy may enjoy having sex with her, he may amuse himself with groping her at her workplace, he may mark her in secret, but when he stepped out into public, it would be with a picture perfect pureblood. So much for winning the war against blood prejudices.

Looking at Draco and Astoria in their moving picture, holding hands and smiling at each other, made her feel cheap for the first time in her life. Like she had been short changed.

She wanted to lash out at something or someone. She wanted to cry. She wanted to be good enough for once. And the she wanted to slap herself for feeling inadequate.

"Hermione? You alright?"

"Just tired from work Ginny. What gave me away?" Hermione smiled ruefully.

Ginny looked skeptical.

"Are you sure it's just work?"

"Yes of course. What else?"

Hermione turned to stir the pot on the stove. Ginny elbowed her to the side and charmed the ladle to keep stirring. Then she turned to look at Hermione again.

"Because you see, Ron and the family are outside making the most of the rare day of sun we have today. Harry is there. Luna too. So, basically all our friends. And yet you are hiding from everyone in the kitchen and twisting the Daily Prophet to death."

"Oh this. I was just going to trash this piece of rubbish." Hermione threw the balled up news sheet in the trash.

Ginny hesitantly touched the older witch's hand and looked into her eyes.

"You can talk to me you know. If something is bothering you. Or if my brother is being an oaf. Anything."

Hermione sighed. Of course Ginny, observant to a fault, would notice all was not right between Ron and her. And since she was Ginny the straight talker, she had to come right out and say it. But Hermione couldn't tell her that Ron and she stopped being the cute couple in love a long time ago. Nor did she want to air out the fact she wanted to end her romantic relationship with Ron.

"Ron and I...We are just...I don't know Ginny. I am just too tired all the time. I guess he misses me and acts out."

"Well...That's something some fancy lingerie and sweet talk can easily solve." Ginny smirked. "Blokes are easy that way. Just bring out a racy pair and he'll have that stupid grin on his ugly mug in no time. He'll even do most of the work to get the grin there."

Hermione caught herself mid cringe and immediately tried to look more embarrassed than repulsed for Ginny's benefit.

"I'll see what I can do" she replied faintly, thinking that she had gotten great at lying to her friends.

"C'mon. Let's go out and join the others."

Ginny grabbed her hand and pulled her out of the kitchen. Hermione saw Ron laughing at something Molly was saying and he bear hugged his mother affectionately. Molly slapped him upside the head, her cheeks pink, her smile wide at her son's antics. Fred and George hooted from a corner. Ginny let Hermione's hand go to join the assembled Weasleys and Hermione came face to face with the realization that her heart didn't feel at home with Ron's family anymore.

That decided her. She was going to talk to Ron tonight. She needed to break up with him and end this bleeding chapter of her life once and for all.

Then she needed to find this bloody event one Miss Astoria Greengrass was being taken to by the very elusive Mr Malfoy.

xxx


	3. Chapter 3

Hermione stood in the slight darkness of an alcove, gaze fixed on a certain platinum blond wizard and his pretty pure-blood princess date. Draco and Astoria, at the War Orphans Charity Gala, dancing, hands all over each other. As if that were not quite enough, they were smiling.

At each other!

It was disturbing to Hermione, the way they were carrying on.

What was also disturbing to Hermione was the sheer amount of wealth being dumped into a party thrown for the over privileged and ever entitled, to raise modest funds for an ever increasing number of under privileged and largely ignored magical children who were supposed to be the future of their world, just so the rich could gossip and socialize and ostentatiously drop a few galleons into the large glass goblet kept on a pedestal in the middle of their party. Her sharp eyes saw that the goblet was charmed to appear more full of gold than it was. However the crystal glasses of expensive wine from the Greengrass Wineries doing the rounds were charmed to appear less full than they actually were. The irony of the goblets was not lost on Hermione as she took in the scene playing out in front of her.

Someone approached the happy couple and Hermione flicked her gaze at the newcomer. Roff Crouch, distant relative and only living heir to Barty Crouch, smiled wide at Draco. Malfoy graciously bowed to Astoria, before tucking her dainty little gloved hand in his elbow as he turned to talk to the other wizard. He talked and laughed and absently petted Astoria's hand. Crouch left and Goyle and Nott Jr took his place to talk to the couple. Malfoy engaged in more pleasant conversation, nodding occasionally. Pansy Parkinson joined the group, pulling a drunk Marcus Flint along. Marcus straightened and shook hands with everyone but Astoria, who was clutching Malfoy with both her hands at the point. Everybody grabbed drinks from a passing floating tray and raised their glasses in a toast. Hermione couldn't hear the toast or what they were saying, or even what they were so bloody happy about. All she saw was Draco Malfoy in his element, at ease among his friends and peers, comfortable in his skin, shiny dragon hide boots and bespoke dress robes. His patent condescending smirk had yet to make an appearance. Or his famous scowl or glower.

Had Hermione ever seen him unwind, socialize and practically hold court like this? Had she seen him dance with abandon like this?

Had she ever seen him singling out and showering attention on a witch in full public view like this?

The bitter answer to all those uncomfortable questions was a resounding no.

What Hermione did see was sneers, petty pranks and cutting remarks in school, hexes and posturing out of school, and nowadays, cold shoulders in public and hard fucking in the privacy of his home. War heroine or not, top ministry spy or not, this glittering gathering of the upper crust of her Wizarding World showed Hermione exactly how divided said world still was. How outclassed this divide left witches and wizards like Harry and Hermione who had stepped into this world with stars in their eyes but a few years ago, coming as they did from their clueless muggle upbringing. The puny measures the Ministry had taken after the war to build bridges between the pureblood elites and the rest, fell far short of making her feel part of this stratosphere of Draco's existence.

That stung.

Hermione had known she would feel a little jealous and out of place when she came to observe Draco and Astoria at this gathering tonight. She just hadn't anticipated the sheer depths of insecurity and heights of rage that would consume her.

Astoria pulled Malfoy's lapels to bring his head down and whispered in his ear. Malfoy settled his hands on her waist and listened. Then he smirked and whispered something back. Such an attractive picture of devotion they cut.

Of all the hits of the evening, the small circles his hands were making on her waist as he whispered in Astoria's bejeweled ears tipped the scales for the silent Hermione in her dark corner. She remembered the bruises Draco had left on her waist the last time they had sex and how she'd carefully healed them the next morning, torn between wanting the bruises and wanting them gone. How differently his hands touched Astoria, how tenderly. A part of her had wanted the bruises that night, and, she realized with shock, another part of her wanted these tender soothing touches too. The kind of touching that another woman was currently enjoying.

Malfoy kissed Astoria's cheek and the pretty blond witch stepped away from the group, Malfoy's eyes following her as she made her way towards the restrooms.

A little something, looking alarmingly like hope, broke inside Hermione. She felt the reverberations of the loss echo throughout her body. She hadn't even been aware that such innocent hope had taken root in her. A tiny tether of feeling, that despite all odds, kept bringing her back to Draco Malfoy. An hour ago Hermione would have laughed her heart out at the mere suggestion of her having feelings for Malfoy. Lust, yes. Passion, hell yes. But affection?

And now, before she could revel in the warmth of real emotion filling her heart, she felt it twisting and breaking, the orphaned wisps of her pipe dreams drifting away, leaving a dead chill behind.

Served her right though. What in Merlin's name had she been doing, harboring hopes about Malfoy of all people?

And what the bloody hell was _he_ doing with Hermione? What was the meaning of that kiss and his impassioned few words in the Ministry lift? What kind of fool did Malfoy think she was?

Hermione tilted her head and again thought of the last time he had fucked her right into his overpriced mattress and decadent sheets. Sans the light of her small hopes, those nights in Draco Malfoy's bed started looking a whole lot darker. What was it that he had said the last time they had been together?

_Is a shoddy hook up with some broad a couple times a month called keeping exemplary company in your shoddy neck of the woods?_

Hermione wished she didn't have such great memory. Or imagination. Because her imagination and recollections were destroying what little self control she had been hanging on to.

Was he going to hold Greengrass down forcefully and take his pleasure from her after the party too? Or was that sort of fucking frowned upon in their uppity pureblood circles? Could be Malfoy was stringing Hermione along for the sole purpose of satiating needs his well bred girlfriend was too good for. Dates and galas, tender whispers and possible engagement with a proper Astoria. Depraved pleasure taking and perverse uncouth words for the mudblood on the side.

_It was good to be a Malfoy!_

The opulent ball room was comfortably heated but Hermione felt her hands and feet go cold. Crackling electricity swept through tightly knotted curls and her hair unraveled, the ends twitching with static. For the moment, Hermione didn't care that she was losing control of her cloaking magic and that her hair were a dead giveaway to her identity. The fact that she was crashing an invitation only event was not important. The fact that in a few seconds, her magic was going to spontaneously lash out was not important. Hurting Malfoy, just as she was hurting now, was important.

Hermione's gaze locked on her nemesis of old, fury making her see red.

The ornate crystal chandelier in the middle of the ballroom, situated just above Malfoy's head, exploded in an ear-splitting explosion, a thousand burning, melting candles flying every which way, the cut glass pieces making up the intricate design disintegrating into a million pieces. Shrieks and shouted spells mingled with the bedlam as wizards and witches cast hasty shields to save themselves and others with them from the raining glass, molten wax and flames. The green velvet drapes by the glass double doors leading to the patio caught a stray spark and sudden flames engulfed that side of the ballroom. More screaming and confusion followed as everyone tried to get far from the burning debris and run to safety.

Not everyone was trying to run away though. Draco Malfoy cast a quick shield to save himself and everyone around him from the explosion. Years of hosting the Dark Lord and his entourage of mad death eaters at the Malfoy Manor had made him inherently ready for chaos at a moment's notice. Panic never helped in these situations. Keeping his head down but his eyes and ears wide open did. That was how he had always survived. He glanced around now, cataloguing the running screaming socialites, looking for anything that was out of place. His eyes fell on a head of dark brown curls in a corner and he froze in shock.

The instant the commotion broke out, five dark sentinel wizards in charge of the event's security stepped out from hidden alcoves and began casting shields, containment and anti-apparition wards, to minimize destruction, save the guests from the explosion and to prevent the guilty from escaping. One found a witch in a corner, a famous witch, practically humming with residual magic. Her eyes dead, her hands loose on the sides, the ends of her hair still smoking spontaneously. She was not running and not shielding herself in any way. Most importantly, she didn't have an invitation and had no apparent reason to be all on her own at this gathering of people. The sentinel cast a full body bind on Hermione Granger and raised his wand to signal his team.

Other sentinels and a few enterprising witches and wizards worked together to control the spreading damage. The fires were put out, the shattered glass started clearing itself away to form heaps in two separate corners. The half hanging broken iron shell of the chandelier gently detached from the ceiling and floated to join its other broken pieces. The guests stopped panicking and started looking around in commiseration towards their friends and acquaintances.

Malfoy saw Granger getting caught and bound and swore loudly, drawing the attention of the witches and wizards around him. All of them turned to look where he was looking and took in the sight of an intruder getting apprehended. Igor Karkaroff, Pius Thicknesse and Theodore Nott Sr stepped out from amongst the masses and moved towards Hermione and her captor.

"That's Potter's Mudblood." Karkaroff hissed.

"What the bloody hell is she doing here." Nott exclaimed, "I didn't invite her. How did she get in?"

"Find out if she was accompanied." Thicknesse ordered the sentinel and sent him away. He then turned to grab Hermione's arm and started dragging her towards the ornate carved wooden doors of the ballroom. "Defuse the situation Nott. Igor, you come with me. We need to find..."

Draco didn't hear the rest of what the man said as he and Karkaroff swiftly reached the doors, Granger in tow and stepped into the hallway outside.

Astoria materialized by his side and squeezed his arm to gain attention.

"What do you think that was all about?" she asked, doe eyes wide in confusion.

"I'll find out." Malfoy bit out. He removed her hands from his arm, not tenderly this time, and walked off in the direction Thicknesse, Karkaroff and the witch that was the bane of his existence had gone. He found them in the first sitting room he looked in. Hermione sat, magically tied to a chair, glaring at Karkaroff as he bent at the waist and got in her face, whispering furiously while Thicknesse piled more magic onto the knots at Hermione's wrists, ankles and torso.

"Gentlemen." Malfoy drawled.

Both older wizards stopped and stared at Malfoy. Hermione turned to look at the door too, some emotion other than anger entering her eyes. Malfoy didn't look at her.

"Young Mr Malfoy." Thicknesse burst out, the pitch of his voice higher than usual, "What are you doing here?"

"Better question, what are _you_ doing with _that_ particular witch?" Malfoy jerked his chin towards Hermione and smirked. "You do know who she is don't you? You know you cannot hold her captive without half the Wizarding World riding your arse by, let's say, luncheon tomorrow?"

Karkaroff ground his teeth and took a few menacing steps towards the younger wizard.

"None of that now young Malfoy. You leave this matter to your elders and go check on pretty little Miss Greengrass. Must've gotten quite a scare, poor little darling."

Hermione snorted. Thicknesse chortled. Malfoy studied the odd group and found their lack of respect for him and his date severely lacking.

"Fools." He ground out under his breath and cast a muffling shield over Hermione so that she wouldn't hear the next part of the conversation.

"Let her go. She is not a threat."

"Say that to Nott's destroyed chandelier!" Thicknesse huffed.

"Young Mr Malfoy-" Karkaroff started...

"Stop with the young Mr Malfoy pretense!" Draco cut in coldly. "The Mudblood is my sidepiece. She is just ticked off that I was here with and have been accompanying Miss Greengrass to a few events. I am sure you can grasp how vicious a woman becomes if she thinks she's been slighted in any way, especially her kind of woman. I'll take her home and have a little talk with her. Mystery solved and problem handled."

Karkaroff stared at Draco, outrage giving way to disgust on his face.

"Well! That explains it then." Thicknesse sneered at the witch and then at Malfoy.

"No it most definitely does not!" snapped Karkaroff. "She decided to follow you and your date to a secret invitation only party. She could have eavesdropped on any number of conversations not meant for her ears or for those that she cavorts with. And she created quite the scene outside. All present witches and wizards of our inner circle have seen her capture and we cannot make them unsee it. I will not make them unsee it. We won't sweep this under the rug for you Malfoy. She has to be made an example of!"

"So what are you planning to do Igor? Kill the fair maiden of the Golden Trio, hide the body and pray that no one looks for her?"

"We could obliviate her." Thicknesse offered and tried to direct a conciliatory smile towards Draco. Mistresses and affairs out of betrothal or marriage were not new or frowned upon in their society. Secretly he was a little in awe of Malfoy to have bagged _Potter's mudblood_ to carry on with. _Oh to be young and rich!_

"We don't know how much she knows. Obliviation works only when we know exactly what she knows. We cannot start looking through her head, erase things left and right and still risk missing something. Better to make her disappear and deal with the consequences as they come." Karkaroff ground out.

"Obliviating all her memories would solve our troubles though." argued Thicknesse, "She would be little more than a vegetable. No one would know what happened to her. Her friends would die wondering and our lot would consider it punishment and consequence of her trying to spy on us. The world would be less one annoying Mudblood although young Malfoy might need to find his fun somewhere else. I say it is still a win win."

Karkaroff stared off absently out the huge windows of the sitting room as he seriously considered Thickness's suggestion.

"They would know we did this though." Draco Malfoy interjected, "The ministry has been like a bloodhound on our heels. They know of my association with her. If she has a hair out of place, they'll descend on me just to be pests and consequently on you."

"They will be onto you. They will not be able to prove our hand in it though. Can't say how your lady issues are our problem." countered Karkaroff.

"You won't be suspected for her memories. But they have carte blanche on investigating any of us. If Granger is attacked, they will investigate her comings and goings thoroughly. They will get to me and won't find anything out of the ordinary. Then they will widen the circle to known associates of mine, or father's. By the time they get to you, the ministry hounds will be foaming at the muzzle to get anything against our inner circle. Might I remind you what all they could find?"

The three were silent for a moment as if thinking about the ramifications of a thorough investigation into their affairs.

"What have you dragged into our midst Malfoy?" Thicknesse shook his head. "You couldn't have fucked a relatively unknown witch who could disappear conveniently? I am sure there are females prettier than her."

Malfoy grit his teeth and controlled his desire to inflict injury upon the older wizards. He couldn't lose Granger. He needed to direct their thought in the direction of his choosing without them realizing it over much. Bashing their heads together till they bled was not the way to do that. He would need to move earlier with his plans but this might just prove to be her tipping point and work in his favor. He stood to lose little and gain everything if he succeeded.

"We need to find a way to discredit her good word, get her mired in some scandal. To the extent that her ministry friends will not trust what she has to say against us. That way, we redirect attention from us to a scandal where she sits neatly in the spotlight. The Golden girl's fall from grace and all. The righteous masses do love to judge an upstanding peer don't they?" Draco said casually, trying his best to not sound like he was instructing the fools what to do.

Karkaroff and Thicknesse visibly brightened at the suggestion.

"But how would we find a big enough scandal to orchestrate her fall soon enough to suit us?" asked Thicknesse.

Karkaroff smirked and cocked a brow at Malfoy.

"Hasn't our boy Malfoy here given us one already?" he leered at the witch and smiled genially at the young wizard.

Draco inwardly cringed. He had gotten from "young Mr Malfoy" to "our boy Malfoy" with the old guard. All it took was a plot to besmear the name of a witch heretofore considered untouchable by all and sundry in the inner circle.

"Whatever could you mean." He asked, his tone dry as a desert in summer.

"We advertise the fact that she's been sleeping with the enemy, a known death eater, and cheating on her war hero boyfriend, good guy Weasley." Karkaroff grinned evilly at his own smarts.

"And that she is unstable and jealous." Thicknesse supplied eagerly. "She caused a huge accident in a fit of pique at a Charity event. She cannot be trusted to be discreet. She lost control in front of a society event with reporters present."

There were no reporters present but they wouldn't let the story dwell on that. Any gossip rag would be too glad to get ahold of the story as they told it. Even if facts were checked at a later date, the damage would already be done.

"So whatever she says would be construed as the ranting of a woman scorned by her lover and his friends." Karkaroff finished, all smug and satisfied, as he turned once again to face the girl, pleased with his realization that he could still ruin a mudblood if not outright kill it.


	4. Chapter 4

Draco Malfoy intently studied Karkaroff and Thicknesse while the two plotted. The two older wizards were smirking at each other, at Malfoy and the tied down witch as they ironed out their story. Hermione sat glaring at Draco, her jaw locked in anger, her hair frizzing and crackling again, as if she guessed their schemes even from within the silencer shield.

"So that's it then." Draco interrupted the other wizards' flights of fancy, "Let her go and we'll get to planting the story right where it is sure to be snatched up."

"What? Right now?" Thicknesse pouted. Draco glowered at the incongruence of the old man pouting over his aborted plans of torture.

"Yes. Right now. I'll take her home so that she doesn't get into any other scrapes on the way. I believe I need to have some kind of a talk with her too." Draco declared and proceeded to take down his silencing charms.

Karkaroff nodded. "I'll get hold of Skeeter and fill her in."

Hermione heard Karkaroff's statement as the silencer shield disintegrated. She looked at the three men, Karkaroff and Thicknesse excited, Draco grim. It took her a second to guess what Skeeter could be filled in on, with regards to her person and her current situation. All color drained out of her face as she began thinking about all that had happened and the consequence of the events.

Malfoy came to her and waved his wand to remove the bindings on her person. He didn't meet her eyes.

"What have you done? Why did they stop the interrogation?" she whispered.

"You're smart. You'll understand." he smiled bitterly, and met her questioning eyes at last, "Eventually."

Malfoy grabbed her by the arms and turned in place to apparate them to a dim alley behind the building Hermione lived in.

He stared into her bewildered eyes. A sliver of guilt pricked him when he thought about the kind of things the papers would publish about his witch in a few hours. How the masses would pull her from her pedestal. The gossip would tear her life apart. But he had to trust in her ability to survive in face of towering odds. Hermione needed this upheaval, or she would never let the corpse of her old life go. Draco was just helping her along with a bitter but necessary pill of slander. And it wasn't slander per se. Everything the papers would say would be true, even if it was said in a sensationalist and controversial way.

This was a matter of how society would perceive the real Hermione Granger, not the Hermione who hid beneath the perfect façade she'd built over the years. He'd seen only glimpses of the real Hermione, one of a kind, a dichotomy of wicked smarts, ruthless cunning, bleeding heart and a lusty adventurous spirit. He knew the real Hermione won the Wizarding War for the Order of the Phoenix. What happened to her after that?

Why was she scared of her desires? Why did she not put her foot down and demand things she deserved like she used to in school? Why was she scared of being without the friends who kept taking advantage of her and sucking the life out of her? What made her so insecure that she'd started questioning her self-worth?

Somedays when he saw her tabloid pictures of trying to fit into the background circle of Weasley and Potter he wanted to shake her. Just grab her shoulders and shake her until her proper bun unraveled, the polite smile became a snarl and she gave him a dressing down worthy of the swot he knew she still was deep down inside. He wanted to do it so bad that now he was going to do it whether she wanted to be shaken or not.

This scandal would shake up her boring fraud of a life. Draco was a bastard to do this to her without her permission. He accepted that and had decided to do it anyway.

"I'll catch you when you fall." He blurted.

Hermione opened her mouth to ask him what he was going on about. Before she could make a sound, Malfoy let go of her arms and disappeared with a crack. Dazed and truly confused, she turned and entered her house. Trying to make sense of her evening failed. Trying to fall asleep failed. Getting drunk was out of the question because she needed to think coherently, not drown out all her churning wayward thoughts. But panic had hit already and hit hard. All she could think of was that her carefully constructed life was slipping out of her hands, out of her control, and down a deep dark spiral.

Hermione was rudely woken up as something hit her face. Her day went downhill from there.

She opened her eyes in annoyance and saw a red-faced Ron Weasley trying to form words. _No new sight that!_ Her eyes next focused on the offending copy of the Daily Prophet on her face. Hermione pushed off the newspaper and sat up, ready to rip Ron a new one for waking her up like that.

"What are you _doing_ Ron?"

"Oh ha ha. You are going to pretend you don't know. You like to read." He sneered, "Read the paper Hermione. And you tell me what _YOU'VE_ BEEN DOING!"

Ron was yelling.

Ron was yelling at 7:00AM in the morning.

Hermione heard multiple voices coming through the walls, from the direction of the kitchen. Were there more people in their home at 7:00 AM in the morning? What was happening?

She snatched the rag and gave its front page a quick glance. Her breath froze even as her insides started sinking. Hermione straightened the sheet of paper and looked at the huge headlines again.

_**Golden Girl goes to the Dark Side! **_

_**Muggleborn crashes elite soiree! And gets caught! **_

_An exclusive report by Rita Skeeter._

_Hermione Granger, brightest witch of her age, the beloved third of our shining Golden Trio, famed for her bravery and heroics during the second Great Wizarding War of England, has gone to the Dark Side. Reliable sources have confirmed that the Darling of the Order of the Phoenix has been cheating, 'cheating' dear readers, on her boyfriend of many years, war hero Ronald Weasley and carrying on a secret affair with none other than Draco Malfoy, scion of house Malfoy, a known ex Death Eater and muggle hater. _

_Pictures and MORE on Page 2..._

Hermione read the words again. To make sure she was reading it right.

"Well?" Ron practically snarled, "It's true isn't it? All the late nights at work, not wanting to sleep in our bed, all your lies...You cheating piece of dirt! And with Malfoy no less?"

Hermione's head hurt from her late night and the sudden pandemonium. She needed a moment to comprehend the shit-storm brewing around her. She needed to decide what to tell Ron and how. She needed a cup of coffee. And she needed Ron to stop shouting for two bloody seconds.

"Answer me!"

"Lower your voice Ron. We will talk like adults."

"NO! I bloody well won't lower my voice! Not before you explain this. Oh and Mom, Ginny and Harry are here. They brought the paper, wanting answers. So...START GIVING THE ANSWERS!"

Hermione got off the bed, grabbed her robe and hastily tied it on. On some level, she was glad it was all out on the open. After her misadventure at that 'elite soiree' of last night, Hermione was done with lies. And men! She was so done with men!

"Come out to the kitchen Ron. Everyone wants an explanation. So I'll explain." she said, mustering her best no nonsense tone.

"No! I am your boyfriend. I deserve to know before anyone else what the hell my girlfriend was doing with that filthy death eater. Were you fucking him or not? It is a yes or no question, no explanation needed. Give me a yes or no answer Gods Dammit!"

"Because you yelling words at me is talking in private? I'm sure the next door neighbors can hear us right now. Come out to the kitchen." Hermione answered as calmly as possible and walked out of the room. Ron followed, hot on her heals.

Hermione saw Harry first, sitting at the kitchen counter on a stool, fists clenched, hair more askew than usual, staring at the wall. Mrs. Weasley, glaring in judgement, had taken the liberty of making tea. She sat beside Harry, arms crossed at her bosom. Ginny sat on Harry's other side, sipping on her tea, looking pained and awkward.

Ron took up his place beside his mother, folded his hands and tapped his foot.

"So." he said.

"Good morning Molly, Harry, Ginny. I see you have tea already. Anything else you'd like?"

"What's going on Hermione?" Harry asked, still staring at the wall.

"My job at the ministry was not wholly a desk-"

"I DON'T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING JOB!" Ron started yelling again.

"I know!" Hermione snapped, having had enough yelling for the day. "Now shut up and listen to what I am saying for once! I work with McGonagall, as part of her network of intelligence operatives. I can't elaborate on my mission. But I met Malfoy as part of a job for the Ministry. I was sent, under cover, as a Ministry certified ancient runes analyst for a project he was working on, to get close to him and hopefully gather information. So I did that and…and I am very good at my job."

Harry started saying something, when Ron beat him to it.

"Secret mission or not, were you sleeping with him Hermione? Yes or no?"

Hermione took a breathe and let it go.

"Yes."

Ron threw his cup of tea on the floor, breaking it to pieces, splashing hot tea all over the floor and walls, and clutched his head in his hands. Molly Weasley shook her head at Hermione in disappointment and got up to hug her son. Just as Ginny made to get up too, Harry put a hand on his girlfriend's shoulder and guided her to sit again. Ginny shrugged off Harry and walked to Ron.

"Were you forced to sleep with him? Because of your mission?" Harry asked, his voice quite, eyes pleading. He wanted to believe the best about his best friend. He needed her to remain untouched by darkness, truthful and honest to a fault, like the little girl he had met on Hogwarts Express years ago.

Hermione hesitated. This was Harry, good, brave, honorable Harry. Her best friend Harry. The boy who had always stood by her side and supported her through thick and thin. The boy who was still trying to take her side and believe the best in her. She knew Harry hated Draco Malfoy and all that Malfoy stood for. Would admitting that she had had sex with Malfoy, repeatedly, of her own volition, finally turn Harry against her? For the first time that morning, Hermione was afraid. She didn't want Harry to be disappointed in her too.

"Hermione?" Harry asked again, looking at her intently.

"No Harry." Hermione whispered, eyes filling with moisture and dread, "I wasn't forced. He showed interest and I went for it. I decided that sleeping with Malfoy was the easiest way to get close to him. I chose to go that way. I knew it was cheating. I did it anyways."

Harry slowly shook his head, his eyes going moist. He opened his mouth and closed it, not knowing what to say. No one said anything. Hermione almost wished Ron would start yelling again.

Ginny let go of Ron's arm and got a hold of Hermione's, standing in front of her so the older but shorter witch couldn't see anyone else.

"Why?" she asked.

"I don't know." Hermione replied as a tear made way across her cheek, "First I thought I was making a fool out of Malfoy and helping the greater good. Oh what a heady feeling that was. I don't even know when I became the fool and started to, to like what I was doing. With him."

Ron shrugged out of his mother's embrace. "I can't listen to this anymore. My head is going to explode if I hear another word out of her lying cheating mouth!"

With a look of disgust, Ron walked out of the kitchen.

"How long have you been prostituting yourself in the name of the greater good?" Molly Weasley asked, her tone icy.

Molly's words hit Hermione like a slap. Still, it was better this way. At least Hermione knew where she stood in their grand scheme of things.

"A couple months." She answered woodenly, looking at Harry and Ginny.

Molly's intended response was cut off by three loud raps at the front door, before it was forced open. In pored a full MLE team. The six men fanned out around them, two walking further around to look around and check if there was anyone else in the small house. Their wands were out, their faces grim. An auror stepped closer to the surrounded group, unwound a parchment and started reading.

"Miss Hermione Granger, per orders from the Minister of Magic Kingsley Shacklebolt, for unlawful use of your position and the information gained through your position as Runes and Code specialist with the British Ministry of Magic, you are being cited in violation of Clause 23.6.2 of your contract, the section regarding Discretion with classified information, in addition to being cited for breaking and entering, sabotage, destruction of precious artifacts, defacing one protected artifact, unprovoked attack on civilians and unlawful disguise without express permission. You are being placed under arrest at the behest of the Ministry, pending trial. Please surrender your wand and come with us. Trying to escape or attacking us will add to your offense and will be dealt with at your trial as well. Anything you wish to say, you are welcome to say it at your trial or to the senior Auror who will detain you, wherefrom it will be added to your record."

Hermione stared at the Auror, who stared right back at her from over the top of his parchment of offenses. Harry had started an argument with an auror he knew. Ginny was yelling at Ron and trying to hold her brother back as he yelled at another auror. Molly was shouting at the top of her voice for Ginerva and Ronald to stop fighting the very second and come away.

Hermione thought she should be feeling something. Anger, shame, betrayal… But all she had going was nausea, and a developing headache. In a fog, she extended her wand hand towards the Auror and then with effort, uncurled her fingers from around the wooden handle. Her precious wand landed in the outstretched, leather-gloved hand of the law man and she felt as if she was perfectly still and still sinking rapidly beyond reach.

Harry got hold of her arm and said something. Hermione tried to concentrate on the words.

"Hermione! Listen to me! Are you listening? We'll get legal representation. We'll fight this. They tell me you lost control and broke a bloody light fixture! What happened wasn't this serious. We can make this right. Hermione?"

With effort she turned to Harry and met her best friend's frantic eyes. She hadn't seen this look on his face since the War. She'd put fear in the indomitable Harry Potter's eyes again. She'd brought strife in his hard-won peaceful life. She knew she'd feel shame for that when she started feeling again. Her eyes shifted to Ron and saw the look of pure deliverance in her ex boyfriend's eyes. He was smug. Hermione was forcefully turned around, her arms pulled back and wrists brought together in magical restraints. Ginny was crying and holding onto Harry now. Molly stood with Ron, not exactly smug like her son, but not crying in despair like her daughter either.

"We're here 'Mione." Harry whispered in the sudden silence of the small kitchen.

"Don't count me in. Nor my family!" Ron sneered. "Not only is she a cheating whore, she is a criminal who is going to rot in Azkaban. We're done here."

Ginny spun to her brother and slapped him

"Shut up Ron. Don't you see she's been set up?"

"Ginny!" Molly exclaimed and grabbed the redhead's wrists in both of her hands. "Hermione chose her lot. Now she will reap her just rewards. Fighting with your brother will not change that. We are going home now."

"But mother. We need to help-"

"We do NOT need to help anyone. We need to go home." Molly started dragging Ginny towards the fireplace, "Come now."

"Ron?" Harry caught his retreating friend's shoulder.

Ron shook it off and grabbed at the bag of floo powder from the mantel.

"Harry don't leave her alone. Go to-" Ginny called out as her mother and Ron forcefully stuffed her into the fireplace.

"Harry don't you dare help that bitch" Ron cut his struggling sister off. "If you want to marry my sister, call my family your own, you will chose your side right bloody now and THAT'S THAT."

"SHUT UP RON! You cannot order us around." Ginny screeched again.

"As your older brother, and with my full support, he sure can order you around." Molly growled at her daughter and swished her wand to silence her. She took a fistful of floo pwder, clearly said the Burrow and threw the powder in the fireplace. A silently screaming Ginny was gone in a flash of green. Molly followed and then it was Ron's turn.

"Ron? She is our friend first. Think of how much we've been through together." Harry was begging now, close to tears. "We are alive because of each other."

"Ask our friend if she thought of that when she was fucking Malfoy, the guy who's dad almost killed Ginny, the guy who with his family fostered and supported you know who. How could she look at him? How could she lay down with…" Ron turned to glare at Hermione, putting all the venom he could in his next words, "There must be some truth to the things people say about mudbloods yeah? You're not right, you people! No matter how many books you cram, you will never know what actually counts. Stay away from me and my family."

With that, Ron stepped inside the fireplace, yelled the Burrow and was gone in another green flash.

Hermione swallowed the bile in her throat as she turned to the team leader. The older man had been silent while the Weasleys and the boy-who-lived squabbled. He looked entertained. The breakups, the blackmail, the choices, the tears, it was all a soap opera to him.

"Lets go" She addressed the Auror.

"Hermione?"

It was Harry. The catch in his voice as he said her name made her pause. She glanced towards her dearest friend in the world and felt something other than nausea and headache. She felt the warmth of her love for the bravest and kindest man she knew.

Her complications, her inappropriate desires, all her lies had landed her here, having to face Harry, with her wrists bound, wand confiscated and list of offenses a kilometer long. Harry Potter still stood with her, ready to do battle against her dishonor, ready to sacrifice his life, his credibility and his good word for hers. The hero of their world! The stupid misguided hero of her life! Was it right for her to ask him to pay the price of her offences?

Was it right for Harry and Ginny to pay for the machinations of her world of evil blond dragons, lying ministry politicians, turned spies and desperate unrequited love?

The nausea subsided. The pain in her temples brought their precarious situation in stark relief. The damage needed to be controlled and mitigated. When things blew up, Hermione decided she should be the only one standing in the blast radius.

"Go to Ginny, Harry. She needs you right now."

"But…you-"

"I'll handle this. I know the rule book inside out, cover to cover. There is nothing a legal advisor could tell you that I can't quote verbatim. Trust me, as you always have. Go to Ginny."

Harry's mouth went flat, a stubborn glint entering his eyes. The lead auror yanked at her arms and started ushering her towards the main door of her flat. The door opened to a mass of witches and wizards outside, some holding little quills and parchment, some holding cameras. Lights of a few cameras went off, blinding her for a few moments. People shouted at her from every direction.

"Miss Granger, are you under arrest? Did you-"

"Did you cheat on Ronald Weasley? What did he-"

Someone pushed an auror to fall into her and everybody was jostled.

"Miss Granger, were you always a death eater?"

"Hermione are you really a muggleborn? Are your parents-"

A stone flew from somewhere and hit her shoulder.

"Did you betray Harry Potter?"

The aurors all cast a shield in tandem and one of them grabbed her to side along apparate away from the media circus. As soon as her feet touched the black tiles of the Ministry Attrium, Hermione fell on her hands and knees and threw up. Darkness began to invade the corners of her vision, threatening to pull her under, even as she dry heaved again and again. The floor was as cold as her body. Consciousness slipped from her numb fingers as she passed out to oblivion.

**So what do you think...Critique, comments, arguments, rants all welcome :)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Somewhere in the Ministry of Magic Dungeons**

Hermione sat and stared at the black wall in front of her, desperately trying to make sense of her life.

It made no sense. Or maybe she couldn't think properly yet?

How could she, brightest witch of the age, decorated war heroine, one of the best undercover ministry agents, end up arrested and put away in a dark retention chamber, wand confiscated and worse yet, hungry and extremely thirsty?

Was it something about her last mark? Was it the accidental magic? Was it the party gate crash? The lies?

Or was it just a sum total of her life choices?

As usual, her mind went to Draco. A familiar shiver ran down her spine. Deliberately, she thought about him with Astoria. The tingles turned to pain. Hermione welcomed the pain and let herself have the luxury of a few tears. She counted to sixty. It cleared her head and brought to stark relief the reality of her situation. Then she put all her training with the mind magics to use and wrenched herself back from panic and heartbreak to reason and logic.

Hermione started counting again and aligned her breathing with safe steadfast numbers.

_One, two, three, four, five_.

She thought about her crazy impulse of going invited to a pureblood party full of closet blood purity supporters and open blood supremacists. She went without a plan or an exit strategy. That was idiotic of her.

_Six, seven, eight, nine, ten._

She thought of the way her magic had flared up, how she hadn't cared who saw her, hadn't cared who got hurt, intent only on making Draco look at her and see the consequence of the heartbreak he caused. She got jealous and let jealousy take over conscious mind function. More idiocy.

_Ten, nine, eight, seven, six._

She thought of the morning. Of Ron, Mrs. Weasley, Ginny. Of Harry and his fear clouded eyes. Of the press that attacked her. Of the MLE aurors that took her into custody. She knew everything and still let others get to her, drowned in nerves and threw up in the Ministry Atrium.

_Five, four, three, two, one._

Hermione wandered at the speed with which a case had been built against her to warrant an arrest and the confiscation of her wand. This was the Ministry of Magic after all. Things were seldom timely. Well, not if you were a death eater or had proven links to one. Then the Ministry was quick to act and swift to hand out due or undue justice. But Hermione wasn't a death eater, nor did she have links with-

The witch swore viciously as a few more cobwebs cleared from her brain. She made a scene at a death eater party. She was rumored to be an ex death eater's lover. Her purposes of being with said ex death eater were shrouded in mystery. To the regular Ministry cog, this was a case of the highest profile. A secret insider on both sides with so much power and dubious connections.

She'd been very idiotic to not expect an arrest.

The lock of her cell door clicked. The door opened without a sound and in came the auror who had arrested her in the morning.

"You have a visitor."

He moved aside to reveal Astoria Greengrass, dressed to the nines in bottle green silk robes with a double row of gold buttons on the front, hair flawlessly side swept and clipped with emeralds, demure black lace gloves on small hands and pearls on the throat and earlobes. Her face was made up to perfection, her perfume flowery and sweet.

So, Hermione deduced, she had come to make a statement then. Would have been photographed on the way in too. May or may not have stopped to say something supremely good for the benefit of the reporters. Cut a pretty picture and seem like the bigger better person after Hermione's jealous hysterics of the last evening. How very Sytherin of her.

Astoria stared at Hermione, smoky eyes roving up and down the older witch's flannel pajamas, bird-nest hair and splotchy face. Her dainty chin went up a notch in superiority.

"Good evening. I was wandering if we could talk. Mr. Weiss here" she nodded at the accompanying auror, "tells me your wand was taken from you. Since you attacked me last time you saw me, you might be scared that I would retaliate in some way. I won't by the way. However, for your comfort, do you wish aurors to remain here for the duration of our conversation?"

"I don't mind either way."

Astoria glanced at the auror and flicked her eyebrows towards the door. The auror Mr. Weiss left, closing the door behind him. Then she looked around the room, in open distaste.

"What is this room? It's awful. There is nowhere to sit other than the cot and I am not sitting on that filth. Salazar knows who used it in what way!"

Hermione waited her out. Whatever the other witch was here for, she'd eventually get to it. No point rushing the performance. Astoria finally settled to stand in the middle of the room and watched a sitting Hermione down her nose.

"Draco and I are betrothed, did you know that?"

Fresh pain assaulted Hermione. This time however, she was in control of herself and didn't let it show. Her face remained impassive, shoulders straight and easy.

"It started back in school. Lucius and Narcissa loved me. Draco was devoted. Our families drew out the contract." Astoria sighed. "Then the war happened. Our families and our friend's families got prosecuted, jailed, our businesses were investigated, investors turned their backs. We suffered huge losses. But we are persistent. Even with all that unsavory business, we pulled through, safe and thriving at the other end. Look at us now. We are the elite of the society again. People adore us. Daily Prophet sales go up on days Draco and my pictures gets printed. You see, everyone wants a fairytale and I have it. Right with Draco."

Hermione hated the way Draco's name sounded when Astoria said it.

"He is a little twisted. He loves his games, likes to make me jealous by going out with other witches. But in the end, he always comes back to me."

"Congratulations for such a devoted fiancé." Hermione said tonelessly.

Astoria's hand twitched, no doubt for her wand.

"You're one to show sarcasm! I know all about you. How you tried to lure Draco to touch you with your pretext of investigating him. All under the cover of loving Ronald Weasley, of all wizards. You crashed our party because you were jealous, didn't you? Of our pictures in the gossip rags? I don't blame you really, when the choice was between Draco Malfoy and Ronald Weasley." Astoria sneered.

"There is no comparing Ron and Draco, not in any realm. If you are trying to get to me, you'll have to try harder." Hermione smiled.

"Why you sanctimonious bitch! Always so above board, above reproach and ahead of everyone. Why were you going after Draco if Ron is such a paragon? Is it because you wanted to hurt me the only way you could? For taking away your case?"

Hermione shook her head at the self-important delusions of Astoria Greengrass.

"I mean, think about it." Astoria went on, "I have everything you don't. Beauty, pedigree, poise. Draco. Out of all my qualities, Draco is my only weakness. You went right after him. So I went after the one thing you are most sensitive about."

"And what am I most sensitive about? Go deeper. You aren't even trying." Hermione smirked.

Astoria clenched her jaw at Hermione's attitude.

"Lets see how smug you are when I tell you who got all those derisive articles printed in this morning's paper. Take a guess. I am sure his name would go deep enough to touch places that hurt."

Hermione had an idea who that was. She'd suspected him while he was plotting with his cohorts. He'd spouted something about catching her when she fell before dropping her off to her apartment last night. So Astoria's big revelation wasn't going to be the other shoe that dropped on that day that just wouldn't end.

"C'mon. Humor me. Take a guess."

Astoria was enjoying herself. Hermione refrained from popping her bubble just yet. She was being good about sharing. Why stop her while she was on a roll?

"I don't know who hates me that much Astoria. Why don't you tell me?" Hermione let slip some of her pain in her words, to encourage the other witch along.

"Oh Hermione. I am sure he doesn't hate you." Astoria stepped closer and crouched on her heels to be eye level with the sitting Hermione, "He doesn't think about you much. You were just a pesky little pebble in Draco's shoes, one he threw away easily. No hard feelings yeah?"

Hermione leveled her gaze at Astoria and remained silent.

"And besides, daddy says he is going to set a date soon. He had doubts about Draco before last night and kept postponing the wedding. But the way Draco plotted to take you down…" Astoria smiled, "You cleared the path for us. I came to thank you for your assistance."

"Was that all?"

"Oh. I still like to earn my rewards Granger. After all, daddy shouldn't have to get me all my wins should he? So, we'll tweak up Draco's story a little, make him look more forced than he wanted to appear in front of society. You know, men and their fragile egos."

Astoria rolled her eyes and then her face went through a remarkable transformation. Her eyes went cold. Her smile empty. Her hands stopped twitching. Up to that point, Hermione had considered Astoria Greengrass to be just a spoiled heiress who got handed everything she wanted. For the first time, Hermione saw how Astoria could have been a successful spy as well. With the pretenses off, the supposedly vapid heiress looked dangerously ruthless.

Astoria leaned closer to Hermione, digging her wand at the wandless Hermione's neck.

"When Mr. Weiss comes to get me, you are going to rant about having used an unforgivable or two on Draco, just to get ahead in your pathetic life. You are going to say you are not sorry. You are going to say you hate us magical pure blood elites and are willing to use any number of unforgivables to rid the society of us. You are going to dig your own grave. And then you will lie quietly in it."

**Meanwhile somewhere in London**

Harry Potter marched up to the receptionist manning the desk at the Malfoy Enterprises London Office and demanded an urgent audience with one Mr. Draco Malfoy. The receptionist sputtered and stuttered over her dilemma; whether to intrude upon their reclusive and very busy CEO and President of the Board who despised any intrusion over his overflowing schedule, or to turn away the illustrious boy-who-lived-and-became-hero-of-the-wizarding-world who just had to see Malfoy right then at any cost. She finally just directed Harry Potter to Mr. Malfoy's PA and considered it a sticky situation well handled.

Malfoy's PA, a severely prim and proper Mrs. Jennings regarded Harry with a steady gaze of a veteran assistant and seemed to decide with a nod that his sans appointment trespass on Mr. Malfoy's time could be tolerated. She knocked twice on the heavy door of her boss's office and gestured for Harry to go on in.

Harry entered the richly appointed workspace of his former nemesis and glared at the blond sitting behind his massive desk. Malfoy met his eyes and carefully put away his quill.

"Potter."

"Malfoy."

"To what do I owe the pleasure?"

Harry grimaced at what he was about to say and dived right into it.

"I don't know how to do this, but we need to talk about Hermione."

If it was possible to wipe a blank slate, Malfoy's face just went through the process.

"We do?"

"Yes. We damn right do! She was arrested this morning. Arrested! _Hermione_! She is awaiting trial now. A full MLE team came by her flat this morning. They took her wand. She was…" Harry gulped and blinked, fixing his eyes on the silver monogrammed inkpot sitting on the desk, "She was treated like a common criminal. They had a two feet long list of offenses. Didn't let us have a word in. And then there was the press at the door. They threw actual stones at her. Called her a death eater whore. She just…She needs help. I will do what I can but… I need you to help her."

Harry clutched at his hair. Going through the morning's unfortunate affairs was driving him to panic again. If he were not at the point of nervous breakdown, Harry would have noticed Malfoy's ticking jaw and clenched fist resting on a bouncing knee.

"What were the offenses?"

"Half of them concern you by the way. Breaking and entering, attack on civilians, illegal use of mind magic. What utter tripe! You have to speak for her Malfoy. Forgive the offenses, in writing if you will. I went to MLE before coming here. The aurors say that written statements will go a long way in helping her defense. Next I'll see how to handle the destroyed chandelier issue."

Malfoy was silent for a few moments.

"I know you've had it out for her-"

The legs of his heavy chair scraped loudly on the marble floor as Malfoy stood up in irritation.

"Do I?"

Harry paused and gave him a look before resuming.

"I know you've always had it out for her because of her being a muggleborn. You and your precious friends… you people still look down upon her even after she spoke for you at your trial. I agree what happened at your party was regrettable. But it was just accidental magic flaring up. Can happen to the best of us…We don't haul each other to the Wizengamot for that. She is going through a lot of personal issues Malfoy. Her relationship with you just plastered across all rags. Please don't drag her through mud for this too."

"Whatever you might accuse me of Potter, I _don't want_ to drag her through mud. I didn't get her arrested. It wasn't even my party. I was just a guest there. I don't know why she was there, invited or not. A lot of influential wizards and witches attended though. Someone obviously took offense and pulled some strings to put her away."

Harry folded his arms over his chest and looked squarely at Malfoy.

"Alright. You can find out who reported her or leaked the news though, can't you? Must be one of your friends. Someone who hates successful muggleborns and blames them for everything wrong with our world. Gee, that doesn't narrow down our list does it? Maybe it's the bloke whose chandelier she shattered. I don't know these people, apart from you. You were the first person I knew to start with."

"What are you starting Potter?"

"I am going to help her, whether you help me or not. You two had a relationship, right? She might not mean that much to you, but to me…" Harry looked away, gulped uselessly over his dry throat and blinked away his tears. "I can't let her be publicly tried or sent to prison, to Azkaban. I keep thinking of her face when they were taking her away. Her eyes…I haven't seen them so empty before."

Harry waited for Malfoy to say something. When he didn't, a touch of steel entered Harry's eyes and words.

"I won't have you using and casting her away like this and then moving on to other witches on your merry way. If she goes down, you will go down too. I'll make sure you do Malfoy."

"She lied to me, started a relationship under false pretenses, put me in an impossible position and now you will take me down because the MLE found her red handed and took her in."

Harry scoffed.

"Oh come off it. You with your pureblood agenda and hoity toity airs! You were seeing her for a few months and yet you had a different witch on your arm whenever you appeared in public for photo ops. Admit it Malfoy, you were too ashamed to be seen with her. And now she is in trouble because of her association with you. Need I remind you that the ministry took her in immediately because you are an ex death-eater?"

Emotion crashed as a tide on Draco's face. His eyes glazed in anger, cheeks colored red and his lips twisted in a sneer Harry was very familiar with.

"Ah the spoiled Malfoy heir is back! Whatever Hermione sees in you, I don't. None of her friends do. What she saw in you to let you get near enough to touch her-" goaded Harry, finding more comfortable footing against a sneering Malfoy rather than a cold blank one.

"She cheated on her boyfriend all on her own noble self, Potter." Sneered Malfoy, "She has been lying to all of you. _She hid me_ like a dirty secret. The few times I saw her was when she deigned to step off her pedestal and come to me, looking for a shag and then turned around and went right back to her holier than thou friends and boyfriend. She laughed in my face the first and only time I tried to keep her with me just for a drink at my house. Do you think she would have stepped out with me in public if I had asked? I never repeated dates because none of those witches mattered."

The wind knocked out of Harry's sails.

_"What?"_

Malfoy pinched the bridge of his nose, came around his desk and pulled a chair for Harry.

"Sit down Potter."

Harry sat down, staring at the blonde and trying to make sense of what he had just heard. Surely Hermione went to him but snubbed Malfoy because the blonde was just a mark, not a real person she wanted to date. Surely Malfoy didn't want to publicly show Hermione off as a girlfriend. Surely the world was not that topsy turvy.

Malfoy went to a minibar at the side and poured a cup of tea, before levitating the cup and saucer towards Harry.

"I don't want tea." Harry gnashed his teeth in frustration. "I want answers. Hermione's not a shrew or a cheater. Then why was she cheating on Ron and sleeping with you? Also if she was doing her Ministry job, why did the aurors arrest her instead of the people at the party? And who the hell leaked all of this to the Daily Prophet?"

"Drink the tea. And calm the fuck down, Potter. Merlin you are melodramatic. What happened between Granger and I is separate from what is happening to her now with the arrest. Listen carefully. First, I am sure the Ministry doesn't want the fact that they are spying on prominent wizards and witches out. They are going to want to sweep every whisper about it under the carpet. They may have already determined that Hermione is expendable. So defending Hermione's actions with the argument of Ministry work will be counterproductive.

Second, when she was captured at the party last night, those same prominent witches and wizards wanted to get rid of her for fear of what she might know. They would not want a public trial. Or a fair one for that matter. They want her to be silenced as well. The gossip in the papers is a convenient way to undermine Hermione's work. It works for both the Ministry and the Death-eaters. If we keep Hermione silent for a couple of days, the Ministry is the most secure place for her. To get her out, we need to prepare a secure location and an air tight story and defense.

Third, to get her out after a couple of days, concentrate on obtaining the letters of forgiveness for breaking into their party from as many guests as you can. Use your contacts, obtain evidence of shady dealings for a few powerful wizards and they will bring those letters to you themselves. That would go some way in getting her charges dropped."

Malfoy poured himself a cup too, pulled the other visitor chair and sat in front of Harry.

"I'll see about paying off the chandelier problem. I'm working on something else too. Granger's tough as nails and you know it. We will make sure she doesn't go to Azkaban, Potter. That place…I wouldn't wish my worst enemy there."

"The MLE was pretty set on sending her to Azkaban."

"The drones of the MLE work under orders. Orders can be reversed."

"You will help with that too?" Harry asked quietly.

"I will."

Harry drank the tea. He felt the stiffness ease in his shoulders and a little weight lifted from his heart. Although Malfoy was no friend of his, he was the only one out of the people Harry had approached that day, who had agreed to help Hermione in a real way. All the others were worried about their own public image and wanted to distance themselves from the brewing case. Going in, Harry had had very little hope from Malfoy. But the ferret had pleasantly surprised him.

"Thank you, Malfoy. I appreciate your help. I thought she had a lot of people she could count on. But just a whisper of an association with former death-eaters and a ministry cover up and no one is willing to touch her with a ten-foot pole. Not one. Even the Weasleys. Even Ron, and _he loved her_. It is only Ginny and I standing with Hermione now."

"I am too. Whether she wants me to or not." Malfoy mumbled and gulped his tea down.

Harry stared at his childhood nemesis and decided he was no longer the evil little cockroach he'd been back at Hogwarts. Could there be more things about the wizard that Hermione had seen, that he was too blind to perceive? And was this blindness on his or the other's part that kept Hermione from telling them about Malfoy sooner?

"Again, I can't believe I am saying this to you, but she does want you. Before the aurors took her away this morning, I asked her why she carried on an affair with you. If it was all just a ruse. She said she liked doing things with you."

"She only liked the sex." Malfoy rolled his eyes.

"No Malfoy. I know her. I know her tells. Whatever she says or doesn't say, she likes you despite her belief that you are making a fool of her."

Malfoy froze.

"And going by what she said to Ron and Mrs. Weasley, I'd say she was already planning to break up with him. She remained apathetic when Ron yelled and walked out on her, as if she expected nothing from him. Now think how she reacted when she thought you were stepping out on her? You're smart. Work it out."

"Huh!" was all Malfoy managed while he processed his shock over Hermione Granger actually wanting him. Really actually wanting him.

"Close your mouth and don't look so shocked. You've been secretly carrying on with her for a few months and you need _me_ to tell you she has feelings for you? You're an idiot."

Malfoy clicked his mouth shut. He went around his desk and started arranging the papers he'd been working on around his desk.

"Ok…Alright…All these documents, they are definitive proof that a few of last night's partiers are plotting to overthrow muggleborn friendly Wizengamot members, by hook or crook, and start building on pro-pureblood legislation. If all this dirt comes out, they would have no power over the masses anymore. One of the leaders of this underground movement is the owner of that murdered chandelier, may the Gods bless it in its afterlife. They will be in shit so deep, no one will even think about scapegoating Hermione."

Harry hurried to Malfoy's side and started reading the documents Malfoy was laying out.

"God Malfoy. How long have you worked on this?"

"Since I was released after the war. I knew a day would come when I'll take Voldemort's death-eaters down once and for all. I have been listening, learning and preparing. I would have preferred to rope Greengrass in as well, to legally get out of a betrothal contract he has had around my neck since I was a child. But oh well, we can't wait any more."

"You're betrothed?"

"Not willingly. It was kept under wraps as part of an addendum when father was first imprisoned for his role in the Department of Mysteries attack. To keep the Greengrasses above board." Malfoy grimaced.

"Huh! Were you planning to send these shady financials to the Ministry anonymously or something, for them to investigate? Or getting it printed in the papers?"

"I am not a saint to remain anonymous." Malfoy scoffed. "This is going to be public and it will make me a dark horse hero in the eyes of the wizarding world. A box of my memories along with the papers form the whole truth. All under cover fuckers who think they are smart enough to carry on with Voldemort's work will be implicated decisively. I might have fought the war for the wrong side, but I'll be damned if I suffer with the wrong side all my life. I am so done with all of them. The death eaters need to be taken down."

"Then we will take them down. And save Hermione."

Harry put out his hand, inviting Malfoy to shake on it. Malfoy shook hands with Potter and that was that.

"Come along now. We need to try to speak to Hermione and let her know we are working on things."

"She doesn't know I was gathering this evidence." Malfoy gestured at the papers on his desk.

"Then we will tell her and see what she has to say. Come along Malfoy. You are an honorary member of the trio now."

"Curb your enthusiasm! We might be working together but we are not friends."

"Merlin forbid" Harry made a face and started towards the door, followed by Malfoy.

* * *

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